#*kylo ren voice* MOOOOORE

[parkermunson]

^vampire! eddie munson

Cute prompt idea: Vamp!Eddie having a soft spot for paranormal investigator! reader (can be gn! or open to other pronouns)

Also lovely writing! 😍

author’s note: uh, this was meant to be short but y’all know how that goes with me. it took on a life of it’s own and i hope it isn’t completely off track from what you were requesting.

cw: sfw, vampire!eddie, gn!reader, all types of paranormal creatures exist, gang is basically monster hunters, dad!hopper vibes, eddie is just sweet and curious, mentions of injury/blood, fighting off ghouls and use of weapons, blood drinking (not how you think), light/silver still effect vampires, this is just super cute and a break from my smut momentarily

word count: 4k

A normal work shift consisted of coming in, grabbing your assignment for the night, grabbing your gear, and heading on your way to whatever undisclosed location was sealed inside the folder. It was an easy routine to fall into; despite how dangerous the job actually was, you were good at, great even.

It’s part of the reason why Hopper chose you to train the new recruits—that and Dustin couldn’t be trusted with the new ones, he was incredibly skilled at scaring them away within the first few hours and it quickly turned into a problem. Hopper needed staff and staff didn’t exist whenever Dustin was training so, the responsibility fell on you.

“I’ve got a new one for you tonight,” He announces from the moment your foot crosses the threshold, his wide shoulder and head peeking out of his office door, “he should be here any minute.”

“You’re kidding?” You ask with a reasonable amount of disbelief, having only finished training someone last week. “I just finished up with Wheeler.”

“And he’s already doing great,” Hopper points out, “I just sent him off on his first solo and he’s loving it—says he learned a lot from you.”

You really hated being good at your job and loving it just as much—it meant that you were more inclined to feel obligated when asked to do things, like training another new employee for back to back weeks, which was a tedious enough task in itself.

“I really deserve a vacation,” You tell him, “or a raise—even a thank you would be great.”

“You know how much I appreciate you, kid.” Hopper says.

And you do, he’s always treated you like family from the beginning and that’s never changed. You always had a place to call home with him.

You sigh, loud and dramatic, “Okay—well, is there anything I should know?”

Hopper’s face changes slightly, contemplating his next words.

“Come here,” He nods toward the interior of his office, “you’ll probably want to take a look at his file.”

The red flags shot off in your mind immediately, but your feet moved for you, following him into his office, letting him slip the Manila file into your hands as you sifted through.

“Edward Munson,” You test the name on your tongue, glancing down to see the preferred shortened version of his first name, “—oh, Eddie. Eddie Munson? Am I saying that right?”

Hopper nods, pointing toward the bottom of the file, a portion that was usually left blank. It’s only been filled one other time, long before you, and it wasn’t something that Hopper took on lightly. There had to be a reason.

Your eyes widen, shoving the file back at him quickly, as if you’d been burned. “A vampire?” You say seethingly, “Have you lost your mind?”

“Look—the kid means well.” Hopper tells you, “I know his uncle—the boy has a good head on his shoulders; just a lot of unfortunate circumstances he’s been involved in. I told him I’d do him a favor—we can at least try it out.”

“And after last time?”

“It’s the last time I ever hire a werewolf during the week of a full moon,” Hopper admits his wrongdoing, but lowers his voice to level with you, “—just give it a chance, for me?”

“You’re lucky I don’t hate you.” You say begrudgingly, eyes narrowing. You pull at your bag, the weight of it slipping off your shoulders. “Is that all?”

“Don’t bring it up.” Hopper warns, “Kid gets real sensitive about sometimes. He’ll talk about it if he wants to.”

“You know I’m dealing with ghouls tonight, right?” You tell him, feeling that he should know, considering how much he despises the supernatural beings. “The ones out at the cemetery that we’ve been trying to contain for weeks.”

“Sounds like fun,” He grimaces, “seems like you’ll both be getting a real hands-on experience.”

You smile smugly, “Don’t worry, Hop—I’ll make sure to bring you back a souvenir.”

He sips at his coffee, fluffy mustaches covering his top lip, “It better be a goddamn keychain and not another severed hand.”

You shrug indifferently, “I’ll surprise you.”

“And I’ll put you on cleanup duty for a month.”

It was an empty threat. He’d never be able to go through with it, he relied on you far too much.

Eddie is entirely too curious and touches everything, like those annoying kids with sticky fingers that love to find their way into everyone’s business. He asks too many questions, he talks far too often, and you almost forget that giant blinking red sign in your head that keeps screaming ‘Vampire’—nothing about him gives it away.

Well, maybe the outfit, the hair—but definitely not the personality. The ones you’ve met were always brooding, pensive, dealing with ventures of guilt and trauma. Eddie was brand new, practically a baby, fresh-face and untouched.

You smack at his hand with the tip of your flashlight, clinking against the dense metal of his rings. His eyebrows furrow, making a small noise of disapproval as he pulls his hand back.

“Stop touching everything.” You warn him, sorting through the gear in the back of your van, gathering the supplies you needed on your belt and vest, watching on as he struggled with his own. “Some of this stuff is used for lethal force.”

“You think they’d make these things a little more practical.” Eddie complains, pulling desperately at the clips, trying to force them to connect around his chest.

“It’s because you grabbed the smallest size.” You deadpan, dropping what you were doing to assist him, yanking at the clips until they click together, watching as his back straightened in discomfort.

“Well, good thing I don’t need to breathe,” Eddie comments idly, pulling a soft laugh from your chest. You weren’t sure why you were expecting him to be secretive about it. He was far too giddy to hide it, he was being himself.

“We can switch.” You offer, already pulling at your vest before he answers, watching as he silently unclipped his own in the process. You switch without a word, and the fit is more comfortable, for him, at least. “Is that better?”

“I’ve dealt with worse.”

It was only one minor inconvenience in the giant problem that was your life; you’d survive. You shoved the supplies into the vest, handing Eddie a flashlight before taking one for yourself.

“I don’t need one,” Eddie tells you, holding the flashlight up with a loose grip, “I can see fine.”

You pointedly shove it back toward his chest, “It’s not for you,” You say flippantly, “just take the damn flashlight.”

Eddie eyes you for a moment, trying to decipher you. He’d always been good at reading people, but you were giving him a harder time than he’d expected.

“Sorry,” He apologizes, clicking the flashlight a few times, light shining in your eyes obnoxiously, “—oh shit, I-“

You sigh through your nose deeply, eyes falling shut to calm yourself.

You speak slowly, face scrunching up in focus, “I’m begging you. Please stop.”

Eddie sets the flashlight down carefully, hands crossed in front of him as he stands back, forcing his curious hands to halt.

“When we get in there I need you to listen to me,” You tell him, trying to emphasize the severity as much as possible, “you might not be able to die so easily, but I can.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

For some reason, you believe him—but his giant, doe eyes have seen nothing yet; they’re unscarred to the wonders of things that go bump in the night, aside from himself. There’s too many things discovered and undiscovered, and even you didn’t know everything. But, the job was serious—and you knew he’d take it as such.

“Let’s hope so.”

The walk to the cemetery is long and quiet, for the most part, aside from the few attempts at small talk that Eddie tries.

“So, how often do you deal with—“ Eddie pauses, thinking of the name, the word slipping his mind.

He takes too long, “Ghouls?” You finish for him.

Eddie nods, curls bouncing against his shoulders. He smiles a lot, too—it’s only slightly alarming because his fingers are so prominent and he doesn’t try to hide them.

“Not often—only once a year, usually,” You tell him, “and they don’t always show up so close to Hawkins, but we’ve been tracking them for a while and they’re supposed to feed tonight.”

Eddie nods slowly, following your words carefully.

“They eat the dead.” You explain, earning an odd look from Eddie, it’s almost poetic. “Don’t worry—you’re safe. Besides,” You stick up the flashlight, shining the light back in his face, “I’ll be there to defend your honor.”

Eddie winces, shoving the light away gently. He blinks rapidly, like he’s struggling to see and you realize your mistake, quickly shoving the flashlight back into its secured spot on your vest.

“Shit—“ You start to apologize, “I didn’t mean to hurt you with that. Are you okay?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Eddie lies, rubbing at his irritated eyes, “just burns a little—I’ll be okay.”

You feel bad and you hate it, because it feels like every moral in your body is turning against itself. In his defense, he was just as much a capable person as you, albeit some differences—and it wasn’t unusual for people like his kind to meld into and function in society to some capacity. It was new to the world, but it worked—he wasn’t the first vampire you’ve met, he wouldn’t be the last—but they usually ended up on the other end of spike after trying to kill you, so yes, things were a little different.

You take a step, slipping on the crack in the concrete as you’re lost in thought, nearly tumbling toward certain death, but Eddie catches you, one hand wrapping around your waist, the other grilled tightly on your bicep, pulling you upright and against him.

“Are you sure you should be out right now?” Eddie asks, “You seem distracted.”

You nod gently, not asking him to let go, his hands squeezing you reassuringly, just a soft touch that would go unnoticed if you weren’t so hyper aware of his hands on you, freezing cold to the touch.

“It’s a lot to deal with in one night,” You admit honestly, “This is more high risk than most cases and Hopper wanted me to train you—it’s literally your first, plus you’re a—“

“You can say it.” Eddie says, head tilting to meet yours as you look up at him. “You don’t have to feel weird about it.”

“I kill people like you,” You say softly, “all the time.”

“I’m sure they deserve it, though,” He offers, which couldn’t be truer, “I don’t want to hurt people—or you, at least.”

You smile awkwardly, eyes wandering to his lingering hands.

“You can let me go now.”

Eddie pulls away quickly, hands settling at his side.

“My bad,” He excuses, “—are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod quickly, walking the rest of the path until you meet the gate closing off the cemetery, pulling at the chain wrapped around the only entrance you have to get inside.

“Did you grab the bolt cutters like I asked?” You turn to Eddie, catching the telling and guilty look on his face as soon as your eyes fall on him. “Eddie, come on—“

“I got it, I got it,” He says defensively, nudging you out of the way to grasp the chain in his hand, but the moment he touches the chain he’s pulling back with a shout of pain, “—fuck, are you kidding me?”

“You didn’t think that one through, did you?” You ask, pulling at the tightly bound chain. Eddie’s face falls, staring down at his wounded hands, healing slowly in front of you. “Works well, doesn’t it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie scoffs, hissing slightly at your touch, hands tracing over the slowly healing scar on his palm, “I’ve never—I didn’t think that was real.”

“Silver is pretty effective,” You tell him, his skin now fully healed as you let go, placing his hands back at his side, “it can take down a full grown man, if needed.”

“Good to know,” Eddie laughs weakly, balling his hands into fists a few times, testing that his skin was back to normal, “—so how are we getting in?”

“You forget the bolt cutters—figure it out.” You tell him. It was one of the best ways to teach, you’ve learned, allowing them to problem solve in situations that seemed impossible; it always spurred the best ideas.

“Well, I could turn into my bat form and fly over the gate.”

“Are you fucking serious?” You ask with wide eyes, “Is that actually a thing? I thought it was a myth.”

“You’re so gullible.” Eddie laughs, pointing toward the top of the gate where a few spikes had been worn down and left a convenient opening, “We’re climbing, right?”

“Bingo.” You smile, “You gotta lose the jacket, though. I’m not ruining mine.”

Eddie mumbles begrudgingly, shifting off his vest to reach his jacket, tossing the thick piece of clothing at you. You toss the jacket over the edge, pulling until it sufficiently covers the sharp edges.

“Can you do it?” Eddie asks, nodding toward the ledge, hands poised to help lift you. You shove him away, assuring him you’re fine. You push off with your feet, barely missing the edge—you sigh, take a breath, and jump once more. Eddie stifles a quiet laugh beside you, knowing that your pride was too high to ask now that you already denied his help. He’s silent when his hands grasp your hips, careful as he squeezes and lifts you up. You freeze, letting out a soft noise of surprise as he pushes you far enough to where you can grab the ledge, pulling and throwing yourself over with a little less grace that you intend, flustered by how easy he was able to lift you up.

Eddie climbs the gate in two movements, a large leap as he grabs the ledge and flips over with practiced precision. You’ve never seen anything like it before, his feet hitting the ground simultaneously. You huff in annoyance, watching as he yanks his jacket down, shifting his hand through the gate to grab at his vest, the biggest, smuggest smile on his face.

“Show off,” You remark, earning another soft laugh from him, “just hurry up.”

You weren’t sure what to expect walking into the nest, but it’s eerily silent, like Hopper got it wrong and they hadn’t migrated here for the winter, but then you’re being blindsided, thrown off to your side and away from Eddie—leaving him to handle the hoard of them blindly, your body colliding with the stone buried in the ground, collapsing weakly onto the grass.

“What do I do?” Eddie panics, pulling the large machete from his belt, swinging wildly in an attempt to fend them off, your vision blurry as you search for him, focusing on his voice.

“Their heads,” You shouts, clutching your side to dull the steering pain, hand wetting with what you can only assume is blood, shirt tacky and damp as it stuck to your skin, “cut off their heads!”

There’s a loud commotion, screaming from Eddie and the hoard of ghouls, you can’t focus, the pain in your side is more overwhelming than anything you’ve felt. You close your eyes, attempting to breath through the pain—you hear the cracking of foliage behind you, an all too familiar feeling creeping up your spine as the creature leaps over your back, ghastly and horribly smelling, you push and fight, trying to keep it as constrained as you can while you search for your knife, only realizing once you find it that it’s the source of your pain, lodge in your side, just under the skin. It couldn’t have been more of a freak accident, somehow managing to miss anything fatal, but the pain was still unbearable.

“Eddie—help, please,” You plead in a moment of vulnerability, teeth gritting in pain as you groaned, using every ounce of strength to fight the thing off, only finding relief when the ghoul is being pulled off of your forcefully, shoved on the ground as Eddie shoved the machete through its skull, the disgusting squelch making your stomach turn, “—thank you.” You force out through a weak breath, clutching your side as you try to rise to your knees, only to be subdued by Eddie, gently forced back down.

“Don’t move,” He warns, hands hovering over your side, your own hands stained in blood, “you’re bleeding too much.”

“I’m sorry,” You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but it feels right in the moment, given the circumstance, “I can wrap myself up—or try—I don’t want it to bother—bother you.”

You can see his pupils dilate larger, eyes focused on the blood pooling against the ground, but aside from that, he’s calm. It’s unlike any other interaction you’ve had with someone of his mind—but Eddie had contradicted most of what you knew, even in the small amount of time you’ve interacted.

“I can help you,” Eddie suggested, “but only if you’re okay with it.”

Your eyes narrow, urging him to continue.

“I guess you’re unfamiliar with how healing works,” Eddie assumes, pressing his hand firmly to add pressure to your wound. He can hear the blood flowing through your body, the sound rushing through his ears, the smell invading his nose—normally he’d jump at the first hint of blood, feed on whatever unfortunate stranger was around at night, but there was nothing like this—he didn’t want to hurt you at all, he wanted to fix you, help you—he’s only ever done it once and he knows it works, but the process is…intimate, “are you?”

You shake your head weakly.

“My blood, it’ll heal you.” Eddie explains, “but you have to…”

He can’t say the words, seeing the way your face creases, a sudden realization hitting you. “No—no way.”

“It’s safe, I promise”. Eddie says, “But, we can always call Hopper—“

“No, no!” You stammer, shaking your hand out in disapproval, the movement makes you wince, your hand clasping over his own where it’s pressed to your side, the sharp metal of the knife pressing sharply into your side. “God—I need to take it out.”

“If I take it out, you’re going to bleed even more,” Eddie explains, “Look—I get how weird it is—I do, but I promise it’s safe. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You’re not sure why you trust him so easily—maybe it’s his eyes, so innocent and pure, like there wasn’t a lie he could tell.

“Do it,” You say quickly, tired of lingering on the thought, “just do it.”

Rip the bandaid off, stop the pain.

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, taken back by your sudden agreement.

You nod furiously, the pain and blood loss starting to take toll, feeling yourself go lightheaded and slumped, moaning softly.

You watch as Eddie pulls his sleeve back, the sharp point of his teeth digging into his wrist, carefully angling his arm as he pulls away, leading it toward your mouth slowly. You can see the blood seeping out—his other hand coming to cup the back of your head gently, tilting it back comfortably until your lips meet his skin.

“Slowly,” Eddie intructs, “just suck—but be careful.”

Your brows furrowed in concentration, lips pursed to suck gently—you’re not sure what you’re expecting, but it’s not the taste that hits your tongue initially; sweet and tangible, like a drug that would easily become addicting. It’s not bitter, or copper-tasting, and it throws you for a loop. It’s fuzzy, the feeling as it flows down your throat, your free hand comes to wrap around his wrist, eyes squeezing shut as you sucked harder, whining at the sensation, a type of pleasure you’ve never felt before.

“Hey, hey,” His voice is soft, but stern, “slow down—you don’t need that much.”

You pull back with a heat to your face, feeling embarrassed. Eddie releases the back of your hand, pulling quickly at the knife—you are numb to the pain, body already trying to heal itself as he throws the knife to the ground, letting it clammer loudly against the concrete.

“That was intense.” You admit honestly, letting Eddie wipe the stray string of blood away with his thumb, using the pad of his sleeve to wipe your mouth clean. It only makes the embarrassment worse.

“How does it feel?” Eddie asks curiously.

“Feels—fuzzy, tingly, I guess.” You tell him, “Like a high, maybe?”

Eddie makes a subtle face of surprise, laughing quietly at your description. “Well, looks like you’re all good now—like it never happened.”

“I’m not gonna end up turning in my sleep, am I?” You ask jokingly, letting Eddie pull you to your feet slowly.

“No,” He chuckles, “I meant what I said. I wouldn’t try to trick you. But—you might feel weird for a day or two, it’ll fade.”

“Oh—okay,” You nod, glancing around at the mess of bodies lying about, left for you both to clean up. “Well, we should probably finish up the job—Hopper is probably wondering where we’re at already.”

“Are you going to tell him—“

“No.” You respond immediately. “No one needs to know about it—or that I got hurt. I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods in understanding, releasing you when he thinks you’re stable enough, “our secret—got it.”

You smile softly and Eddie does too, you’ve never felt more nervous.

When you finally drive back, it’s at the peak of early morning, sun still down and most of everyone has gone aside from Hopper, who practically lived at the place—Eddie grabbed most of the gear for you, lugging it in his arms as you followed closely behind.

“Looks like you two had a night,” He comments, stepping out of his office to watch your two frazzled, worn out faces walk down the hall, “how’d he do?”

“He’s alright,” You shrug and Eddie laughs to himself, continuing down the hall as Hopper stops you in your tracks, “—what?”

“You alright, kid?” He asks, “I know how rough ghouls are—you don’t have to play it down.”

You shake your head, “No, we’re good—he’s really curious but…he’s got potential.” You tilt your head slightly, watching down the hallway as Eddie turns the corner, “If you want to pair him up with anyone—it can be me, he’s not as bad as I hoped for.”

“Told you,” He teases, poking your arm gently. “—must’ve really had an effect on you, though.”

You shrug, “Someone’s gotta control the chaos,” You say, “and sticking him with Dustin is an accident waiting to happen.”

Eddie laughs quietly down the hall, unbeknownst to you as he listens in on your conversation with Hopper.

“Alright, if you say so.” Hopper relents, hands held up in defeat.

You weren’t sure how or why, but Eddie had quickly snuck himself into the soft spot of your heart, your thoughts—and maybe it was the blood, or the general effect that Eddie had on people, but you were fine with that.

“Looks like I’m out of here for the night,” Eddie comments, sneaking up on you two easily, enjoying the startled looks on your face, he smiles, “—made a good impression, I hope.”

“You’ll survive another day.” You tell him snarkily, “I guess.”

“Good—now if you don’t mind, I’ve got a coffin waiting for me at home—“

“Okay—now you’re just gloating.” You say tiredly, turning on your heels with a quick wave to Hopper, a smug smile written all over his face.

“I’m not joking.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Is that a challenge?”

You smile, catching his bashful grin as you shake your head at his terrible flirting. You were game, fortunately for him.

“Yeah, it is.”

[anitoonart]

The wolf inside me that wants Scogan, in a Kylo Ren meme voice: More! MOOOOORE!

[themadknightuniverse]

✨

[dawn-the-rithmatist]

Honor Among Thieves: The Spring

*Kylo Ren voice*: Mooooorrree. MOOOOORE. MORREEEE!!!!!

anyways here's another chapter of thief au! I've been writing in all of my free time this week so lots of early updates :) there's a little bit of the chapter below, and the rest is here on ao3! enjoy!---

Impa waited until she was sure the champions were gone before offering to take over the watch shift. When the hallway was clear, she stepped inside with quiet steps and approached the desk.

“I’m not here to try again, so you don’t have to attack,” she said, reaching a hand out towards the sheath. “I just had some questions I was hoping you could help me with.”

Her words were calm and confident, yet still she braced for the crippling nausea and pain that had accompanied her previous contact with the sword as she rested her fingers on the guard. This time, no pain came. Instead, she felt only a strange tension, her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. 

Ask your questions. Do not think you can trick me, Fallen Sage. 

Impa paused. She hadn’t honestly expected to get this far, and the surprise had driven all of her carefully prepared questions from her mind. “You called me a sage,” she said instead, grasping onto the thread presented to her. “What do you mean by that?”

In ancient times, there were those known as sages, who aided the princess and the hero in their defense of Hyrule. After a moment’s pause, the voice echoed again, Given your state of confusion and the lack of knowledge of the Cycle throughout Hyrule, I am 98% certain that your history books have no mention of them.  Impa grimaced. If they survived this calamity, she would personally ensure that their record keeping would survive the test of time.